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Fornost
Category:Country Not so long ago it was when the four of them came together in some dusty tavern, dimly lit and stinking. There they discovered they shared some things in common, besides their taste in drinks, such as a certain dislike of their current state of affairs. The blue fox-man, Axellus, shouted something or the other about his unfair treatment at the hands of other beastkin. Of course they wouldn't understand him, he was a cat-man trapped in a fox-man's body! The half-giant, Swagrid, merely downed another ale as the ranting continued, half-awake and half-drunk-to-death. The knight Saber had simply been roped into the conversation when the talk turned to seeking treasure, but had since grown weary of the company. She ordered one more drink and prepared to leave, when the elf Arctre spoke of his wanderlust growing thin, instead wanting a nice stretch of land of his own in the world where he could study and craft in peace. The half-giant stammered about his beloved farm he could never have, with a brewery pumping ale at all hours. The conversation drove towards the logistics of establishing such an operation, with the labor involved being one of the main issues discussed. Each of the four was willing to sweat their own to build their own places in the world, so at last the elf questioned, "Why not?" The four prepared at length to venture far into the wilds, having agreed to establish a small township for themselves in the name of self-preservation and peace for each. Together they wandered the lands and came at last upon the Northern seas of the continent and sailed east along the coast. Along the way they encountered the rogue Gergoth castaway upon lonesome shores. The four became five as they continued South through the waves, coming at last to warm beaches and rich stone. They set at once to build a town, but were met with the masters of the island who were less than pleased with their presence. The masters offered a peaceful co-existence should the five re-locate to the far side of the island, yet the five were convinced only more issues would arise should they stay in the area. The rogue Gergoth decided to go his own way, traveling West to the mainland. The remaining four gathered their trappings, and sailed North once more to seek another site for their own. The frigid cold greeted the four as the water turned to ice in the frozen North of Merchant's Island's waters. The sea emptied into a bay, then into a river by a frozen beach with spruces and firs kissing the coast. Snow covered the earth and carrots could be seen sprouting as far as the eye could see. This was to be their home, they concurred. This was to be Fornost. The town began small with only a square, a mine, and a field to sustain the residents while they built their own homes, their own lives, and, in some cases quite literally, their own castles. The small stead of Fornost grew day by day, with the sweat of its folk becoming its blood, and the steadily expanding roads the fruit of their efforts. They forged tools, bound enchantments to armor, and even developed gunpowder to fuel their firearms with which they hunted accursed Infernals in the Netherworld. They even gained new members in the short time the town stood. Indeed, Fornost seemed that its future would be sound and prosperous. Yet they began to dabble in magics they understood little of, as well as the consequences of its practice - portals. What began as a means of bridging two far locales to allow faster travel of the world quickly became a means of tapping various veins of precious materials that were otherwise rare or lacking in the area surrounding Fornost. Portals too were laid near larger cities and holds; too close for the comfort of those who resided there. Outrage began as the portals were found near larger powers and near ore veins thought unclaimed. Retribution followed as invaders sacked the otherwise defenseless Fornost, burning and destroying much of the small town. Its residents were slain, left to rot beneath the sun and cold winds of the North. Some unknown passerby erected graves for the fools who meddled in that which they did not understand. There it stands to this day, quiet Fornost; a ghost upon the icy shores of Merchant's Island. A sad and lonesome place it is, where once it would have bustled with busy works. A peaceful land it was to be, free from the confines of society. Instead, when encroached too closely upon, society came knocking - and angry. Let Fornost stand as a warning to those who would seek to tapped the unknown yet claimed, or to invade the territories of others, even for simple transit. Silea Ravni does not tolerate such altercations, nor the fools who commit them.